


Oliver Cooks

by whoseeswhatsyetunseen



Series: Funny Unsexy Sexy Times [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Sexual Content, Unsexy sexy times, kinda sexual tension, olicity - Freeform, olicity drabble, oliver cooking, romantic, work felicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:52:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoseeswhatsyetunseen/pseuds/whoseeswhatsyetunseen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little fluff of Olicity:  Oliver attempts a romantic night-in.  But it doesn't go as smoothly as he had hoped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oliver Cooks

**Author's Note:**

> (Kinda just ignoring season 3 olicity stuff. Just a little drabble I was thinking about earlier.)

Felicity sighed as she stumbled out of the mini. Then she awkwardly banged into the car door but managed to close it without trapping her skirt or her bags. Then she groaned as her fingers twisted the key-fob in such a way that she hit the unlock instead of the lock button.

"Oh my god," she grimaced as the keys slid from her fingers and landed harshly on the pavement.

She was so tired, she just stood there, unmoving, outside her townhouse, staring down the impossibly far distance her keys had traveled.

Suddenly, hands slid along her hips and tugged her easily backwards.

She screeched and tried to pry the strong hands from her waist but the grip was too strong. She heard a grunt of pain then as she stabbed her high heel into a foot and her elbow connected with a muscular torso.

Felicity was released just as quickly as she had been grabbed, and she stumbled forward while trying to spin to face her attacker.

"Felicity!"

Her eyes widened as she realized it was her boyfriend clutching his side.

\---->

Earlier...

Oliver glanced at his tablet--HIS, because Felicity was fed up with him using hers and corrupting it somehow EVERY TIME--and saw her pink blip blinking at the stop light one block away.

Perfect timing. He smiled and lit the final long tapered candle on the dining table. He checked the chicken, again, and reread Lyla's instructions, again, and clicked off the oven.

He owed that woman some seriously illegal chocolate or something for all the moral and logistical support she had provided when he first voiced his desire to cook for Felicity. A new weapon of some sort perhaps, he smirked to himself.

Now Oliver stood in Felicity's kitchen and smiled. He had made dinner--made, not purchased and reheated--and the little townhouse smelled damn wonderful, if he could say so himself. Garlic herb chicken, roasted vegetables, fresh bread, great bottle of wine breathing...

Oliver's smile widened even more as he heard the cute little mini pull into the side driveway and park. He glanced at the stack of DVDs he had placed on the coffee table. Brand new blu ray versions of those damn Marvel movies, supposedly with loads new extras. He was about 80% sure it would be new for her.

Oliver felt a warmth spread through his body as he pictured how surprised she would be, how her smile would light up the room. The heat that that thought caused him had him unbuttoning the top buttons of his newish henley (Roy was still teasing him about having his girlfriend buy him clothes.)

He poured the red into glasses and eagerly went to the front door. A minute passed. Then another. But she didn't enter.

His hearing quickly zeroed in on sounds of movement and the car door closing and some muttering.

Oliver frowned. Maybe she had a lot to carry in from the car. He set the glasses down and opened the front door. "Felicity, you're ruining my romantic surprise," he chuckled quietly with a lightness that was starting to dwindle when he still didn't see her approaching.

He was outside in his bare feet, walking casually around the corner of the house toward his girl before he had even thought about it. Just the sight of her blond hair and nice ass and amazing legs... He was the luckiest SOB and he knew it.

She was looking down, probably at her phone or tablet, and hadn't heard him come up behind her, so he just grinned and slid his hands across her lush hips to embrace her and pull her into his body.

An ear-piercing screech startled him just as her fingers scratched at his. He opened his mouth but she attacked his foot and slammed her pointy elbow into his side and all that came out was a pain-filled grunt.

He saw her spin around and her beautiful eyes grow huge.

"Felicity!" he managed to grunt out. Damn, she got his ribs good! And his foot was throbing.

"Ohmygosh Oliver!" She rushed to him and grabbed his face and brought it down to her level. "I'm so sorry!" He grunted again. Then she dropped her hands away and stood back. "What the hell, Oliver?!" she suddenly shouted.

He had just enough time to lift his arms before she stepped forward and tried to punch him in the chest.

"Shit, Felicity, stop," he grumbled. His large hands gripped her small wrists and he yanked her closer. "Glad to see Diggle's self defense lessons are working."

She pursed her lips but then grinned as she leaned forward, pressing her breasts into him.

"I knew it was you, I was holding back, you're lucky," she teased against his lips. He huffed a chuckle and then gently touched his lips to hers.

"Uh huh, right." He released her wrists and hugged her waist. "What were you still doing out here, anyway?"

\---->

Felicity sighed. She allowed her forehead to thunk onto his strong, warm chest.

"Just a really, really long day." She smiled as she felt his lips press onto the top of her head. She took in a deep breath through her nose; Oliver's scent always soothed her, and yet, it was different tonight.

She leaned back and looked up at him. "Why do you smell like Digg's place?" she asked as her eyebrows arched.

Oliver's sudden bark of laughter startled her. (Seeing and hearing Oliver happy was still a new thing.)

"If you ever got that cute butt inside, you'd find your answer," he responded, a deep purr to his voice.

Felicity narrowed her eyes. "Uh, Oliver? I like Diggle, love him, and Lyla, but... I'm not at all interested in an orgy or swapping or--"

"Whoa whoa WHOA!" Oliver was stepping away, and she finally noticed the very dark red scrape on top of his bare foot... Whoopsie! "It's just her chicken recipe, jeez Felicity!"

"Oh. Uh, ok." She felt her cleavage, and neck, and cheeks grow hot and red. She watched Oliver valiantly refrain from rolling his eyes or laughing at her. "Wait, you cooked?!" What was happening?!

\---->

Oliver couldn't believe how red Felicity was. It was hilarious and shocking and he somehow managed NOT to laugh or roll his eyes. Somehow.

"Yes, I can cook," he said in a steady voice. "I had to feed myself while I was... away, so, yeah, I cooked."

She nodded. "I just meant, I've never seen you cook anything more complex than toast and eggs."

He smirked a little at that. The whole team agreed his scrambled eggs were awesome.

"Would you just get in the house?" He waved toward the front.

She nodded again, bent to pick something off the ground, and he moved to help her.

"Wow, I really got your foot, Oliver!" he heard her gasp. He followed her gaze. It was definitely going to bruise, but it wasn't bleeding. It was barely a scratch to him.

He did, however, glance at her killer shoes. "Didn't Thea make you buy those?" he frowned as he looked at the stilettos. "Remind me to thank her later," he mumbled sarcastically.

Felicity just shrugged, forced a couple heavy bags of work stuff into his arms, and marched away toward the front door.

"God, I am STARVING!" she called over her shoulder. "I hope the smell matches the taste, because I've had Lyla's chicken before and it is heavenly!"

"Can we please stop talking about about Lyla and Diggle?!" he muttered as he followed her inside.

She kept talking even as she kicked off her shoes, plopped down her purse, and began to snoop in the kitchen.

Oliver didn't even listen as she mentioned something about a boring meeting. He was slightly put out that his romantic surprise wasn't going as planned. He had images of her thanking him, later, in a dim bedroom, maybe while she was on her knees unzipping him... Or pushed against a wall, wiggling her naked ass at him... He sighed heavily.

He dropped her bags of work crap onto the pile of her shoes and purse, grabbed the glasses of wine he had left near the door, and joined her at the stove.

Oliver reached her in time to see a very large forkful of chicken enter her mouth. "Oh man, this is SOOO yummy!"

"Could you at lease let me serve you?" He know he sounded like a petulant child, but damn it, he had been planning this all week! "Felicity!" He almost dropped the wine as he tried to stop her from shoving a piece of bread into her mouth.

Finally, she stopped and turned, a piece of crust clinging to her pouty, shiny pink bottom lip. Oliver felt his cock twitch and closed his eyes.

"Go change into something comfortable, and sit. At. The. Table." She licked her lip when he reopened his eyes. Fuck. Her gaze darted down and back up and then she smirked. "Please," he added and flashed his pathetic begging look at her.

"Ok, ok," she said, in almost a giggle. "Don't get your... panties... in a bunch..."

He growled as she moved to walk passed him. She stopped as she got to him, reached out and tried to grab his hardening length, but he was quicker and stepped aside.

She laughed, light and teasing. And he swatted her ass as she finally did as he asked.

Ok, maybe the evening wasn't a complete ruin, he told himself. He could still make this a sexy, relaxing evening for the both of them. But then,

"OLIVER?! You did NOT drop my tech on the floor!" He looked out into the hall. She was bending over, frantically pawing through the bags. "Crap! Not on my shoes! Oliver?!"

He gulped his wine and refilled it quickly. Oh well, there was always next week.


End file.
